


Red sky at morning

by ladyzeia



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Perils of the Sea, Toraichi lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 15:50:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15246648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyzeia/pseuds/ladyzeia
Summary: “The worst of it will stay west of us.  JMA says the storm’s weakening now that it’s made landfall.  We might get the tail end of the rain—that should be it.”“Heaven-forbid we get rained on,” Toraichi said, smiling, the phone cradled between his ear and shoulder as he scanned text reports on the Japan Meteorological Agency website...AU where Toraichi steps onto the boat that day and comes back alive.





	Red sky at morning

**Author's Note:**

> Massive _Timeless Medley - Yakusoku_ spoilers (translation thanks to [@KudouUsagi](http://kudouusagi.tumblr.com/) on tumblr)  
>  I finally read the translation of Yakusoku and I have a lot of angst for way Matsuoka Toraichi died (I had angst before, but I have more now after Yakusoku). So I wrote this. Happy ending, but that may in and of itself be depressing.
> 
> Canon-timeline, so roughly mid/late-90's.

“ _The worst of it will stay west of us.  JMA says the storm’s weakening now that it’s made landfall.  We might get the tail end of the rain—that should be it.”_

“Heaven-forbid we get rained on,” Toraichi said, smiling, the phone cradled between his ear and shoulder as he scanned text reports on the Japan Meteorological Agency website, peering at the computer screen through his glasses. 

There was a soft snort on the other side of the line and he just knew Captain Iwamura was rolling his eyes.  _“Like that’ll stop you young ones from complaining.  Twelve hours of that and I’ll wish I was deaf already.”_

“Just for the day, then?”  There was a noise from the other room and Tora turned away from the computer desk, noting the door to the den had fallen open slightly as it was wont to do, spilling light out into the hallway.  Miyako was already up and in the kitchen—he could smell the sweet, bold aroma of the coffee she was making.  Across the hall, in the _tatami_ room, Rin had flopped over onto his back on the futon, arms spread wide and red hair scattered across the white pillowcase, the fin of a stuffed shark clutched in one hand.  Gou was curled up next to her brother on her side, a teddy bear and pink blanket nestled in her arms.  Toraichi gazed at his children for an extra few seconds before nudging the door slightly more closed to avoid waking them up.

_“Yeah, like we discussed yesterday.  No sense taking unnecessary risks, right?  We’ll stay close to the harbor.  What do you think, Matsuoka?  I could use your help, but it’s up to you.”_

“Ah.”  Tora nodded, even though his captain couldn’t see him.  “We’re a team, right?  I’ll be there.” 

_“I knew I could count on you.  See you soon.”_

Tora returned the phone to its cradle and closed the browser window.  A recent picture Miyako had taken waited for him on the desktop—of him and the kids at Sano Swim Club.  He and Rin were hanging onto the edge of the pool, eyeing each other and grinning as they prepped for their race, while Gou—up on the side—gave them the signal.

Rin had already made him promise on his next day off, that they’d go again. 

Tora shut down the computer, not lingering on the stack of bills that was growing on the corner of the desk as he went about gathering his gear.

_“Once the kids go back to school, I might see about tutoring again.  What do you think?”  Miyako had broached the subject gently, with a slice of his favorite cake in an attempt to soften the blow._

_But strawberries and whipped icing couldn’t save his ego.  June had already been a record-breaking month, typhoon after typhoon slamming the shore and seas, keeping the boats battened down in the harbor.  He’d looked for other work, but so had everyone else.  Mostly, they all banded together and helped with repairs around town, but none of that came with a paycheck.  The first half of July had been much needed respite and he’d been out to sea for most of it.  He could only hope it would last._

_“I miss teaching.  You know I do,” she said, sitting down across from him at the table, her ruby hair falling in soft waves over her right shoulder.  Her summer blouse was turquoise blue, like the ocean in the bay when it sparkled in the sun._

_“I know.”  It wasn’t the first time he wished he had more marketable skills, something besides just swimming and fishing.  He’d promised Miyako the world when they’d gotten married; she’d laughed at his idealism then, smiling at him and catching him for a kiss._

The world is where you are, Tora.

_Reality settled in soon enough—his childhood home was easy and his mother, with her fragile health, needed him close by.  Toraichi knew his wife didn’t have any regrets.  She told him often enough how happy she was, how much she loved their life together.  Financial hardships didn’t make her any less radiant, especially anytime he was home and their family of four was whole._

_He set down his fork, his slice of cake half-eaten—it was hard to be_ too _depressed when there was cake involved.  “As long as it’s what you want, Miya.  And not you feeling like you have to.”_

_Her smile was like clear skies and fair seas.  “I want to!  Do you have any idea how crazy I get with you gone and the kids at school?  I can’t stand the house being so quiet.”_

_“I don’t know…”  Tora swiped a fingertip through his frosting and licked the digit clean.  “Isn’t having me around like having a third child?  I thought you’d want your alone-time.”_

_Miyako laughed, half-rising out of her chair.  “Well, I’m not arguing that,” she said, stealing his fork and a bite of his cake._

_“Hey now…”_

_Soon enough, frosting was on noses and their conversation became kisses rather than words.  Miyako was just settling comfortably on Toraichi’s lap when Rin—ever the light sleeper—wandered into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes._

_“What?  There’s cake?!”_

_They waited until their son had sugar crashed before escaping, hand-in-hand, and sneaking upstairs._

Being home with his family was never a bad thing.  Tora finished repacking his bag, taking only what he’d need for the day, plus a few extras.  If they had to move back in with his mother for a little while, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.  Rin and Gou adored their grandmother; the feeling was mutual and Tora’s mother loved Miyako as a daughter, endlessly teasing him for however he’d managed to snare such a delightful bride.

He was just shouldering his bag when soft footfalls approached, the aroma of coffee growing stronger.

Miyako poked her head into the room, eyeing his preparations and smiling as she entered.  “You’re going?” she asked, handing him the travel mug.  The sweater she wore was a favorite of his, paired with soft leggings and cushioned socks to ward off the pre-dawn chill.

“Just for the day.  I’ll be back tonight.”  Tora grabbed a light rain jacket to take with him, in case he needed it to or from the car.  He sipped the piping hot coffee and smiled, the coffee’s maker, even more than the beverage, warming him down to his toes.  “Thanks, Miya.”  He kissed his wife and slipped out into the hallway, stealing another long glance at their sleeping kids before heading towards the door.

“Oh, Tora, you forgot…”  Miya followed him to the entryway where he toed on his shoes.

Toraichi stifled a sigh as he looked at the inflatable PFD (personal flotation device) she held out to him, tags still attached.  “Captain Iwamura has lifejackets onboard.”

Miyako gave him a pointed look.  “Which you don’t wear.  None of you wear them.”

_Because they’re bulky and hot and they get in the way of the lines and—_

“I know all the excuses you’re making in your head.  That’s why your mom bought this one.”

Tora inhaled.  “We’ll be two to three kilometers from the harbor, max.  I used to swim that twice a day—”

“In college,” she said, pressing the red fabric bundle to the center of his chest, her eyes fixed on his face.  “A decade ago.”

_Captain Iwamura will think I don’t trust his judgment.  The other guys will—_

“Tora, please just take it.  For the home team?”

Toraichi’s breath came out in a puff, all of his arguments evaporating as he looked at Miyako, as Rin muttered something in his sleep from down the hall.  And just thinking of how tiny Gou’s hand was, cradled in his…  “Not fair,” he murmured, snaking an arm around his wife’s waist and pulling her in for a hug.  _You always ruin me when you bring that up.  You know it, too._

Her expression softened with relief.

“I’m off then,” he said, taking the bundle from her hands and meeting her lips gently.  “Love you.  _Itte kimasu_.”

“Love you too.”  Miyako smiled, squeezing him tightly.  “Be careful.”

“I will.”  With a wave, Toraichi headed out.

-x-

It was a short drive down to the harbor; there was no traffic at all at this time of morning and no rain yet.  Several of the other fishing boats were already motoring to the mouth of the harbor, with the hills and docks on their right.  Others had been at sea for days.  Iwamura was one of the older and more conservative owners, versus the younger guys who could be more reckless.  Tora had worked with him for five years and liked the guy immensely, though the money wasn’t as good sometimes.

Pulling up to the wharf, Toraichi parked and turned off the engine.  Most of the eight-person crew was already onboard the thirty-meter _Oshidori-maru_ ; he needed to hurry and get to work so they could put out to sea as soon as possible.  He grabbed his bag off the seat, sighing at the thought of the looks he’d get, showing up in the bright red PFD with its reflective piping on the edges and fancy CO2 canister pull-tab.  The captain really did have lifejackets all over the boat.  In five years, Tora had never needed one.  He shook his head at himself, getting out of the car, the PFD still on the seat as he shut the door and locked it.  The women in his life worried too much.

Toraichi got about three steps towards the dock, the dawn lighting the undersides of the clouds a vibrant reddish-gold.  –Red like Rin’s and Gou’s eyes, like Miyako’s hair in the sunlight…

 _Damnit_.  Tora marched back to the car and opened the passenger’s side door, stuffing the PFD into his bag and not letting himself think more about it, despite the fact that his face heated a little. 

He booked it towards the dock, heading past the lookout station on the way and waving to the radio tech who was leaning up against the open doorway, a coil of smoke rising from the glowing ember on the end of his cigarette.  “‘Morning, Fukuda-san.”

“‘Morning, Matsuoka,” the guy said, his free hand tucked into the pocket of his trousers, his trimmed, wiry beard well laced with silver.  “You’re going out in this, huh?”

Tora slowed his steps.  “This?”

Fukuda gestured with his cigarette towards the sky.  “Red’s a bad omen in the morning.”

 _Not to me_.  But then, Toraichi’s life was filled with red.  He loved the color and everything—everyone—it reminded him of.  “We’ll only get the edge of the storm.  And we’re staying in sight of the bay.”

“Yup, heard that one before.”  Fukuda took a long drag on his cigarette.  “Your Skipper’s got stories too, but he’s as antsy as the rest of them today.”

Iwamura and Fukuda were around the same age; Tora had seen them get in each other’s faces plenty of times over the years.  It always ended with the two of them laughing, drinking each other under the table, and singing loud and offkey.  Them talking smack about each other before a fishing trip was almost a ritual at this point.

Toraichi smiled, continuing on towards Iwamura’s boat.  “See you when we get back, Fukuda-san.”

The man just nodded, smoke drifting from his mouth as he exhaled, caught and dissipated by the breeze.

Hamasaki and Inouye were loading supplies onto the boat when Tora hopped onboard.  He waved at them and checked in with Natatomi, the deck boss, before heading below to stow his stuff and get changed.  A warm, sea-salt drizzle was just starting to fall, clinging to the clothes he peeled off in favor of his heavy work garments and gear.  The others already had their bright orange rain coats on over their coveralls and boots.  In the semi-privacy of the crew area, Toraichi slipped on the red PFD—quite the contrast to his blue coveralls, unfortunately—and secured the strap around his waist, donning his orange rain jacket over top.  The last thing he did as the ship bobbed gently beneath his feet was to remove his wedding ring, looping it securely through the chain he wore at his throat and tucking it under his clothes against his skin.  His slow exhale with his eyes closed was a prayer for the safety of ship and crew, a ritual he knew he shared with Miyako, every time he set out.

“Matsuoka!”  Okazaki, another of the deckhands, greeted him with a slap on the back. 

“Hey, Okazaki…”  Tora drew a breath and turned, meeting the guy’s grin with a (somewhat forced) smile of his own.

Okazaki’s gaze went straight to the fire-red PFD.  He cleared his throat as Tora’s face warmed.  “The wife, huh?”

“Er, yeah.”  Tora rubbed the back of his neck.

Okazaki chuckled.  “Better man than me.”  He nodded towards the stairs.  “Ready to work?”

“Ah.”  Tora followed his teammate up to the deck.

-x-

The sea was rough and the visibility—once the rain started to fall—worsened at a steady pace.  The haul was good, though, Tora working alongside Okazaki up to his knees in the net at the stern of the _Oshidori-maru_ , under Natatomi’s supervision.  Hours flew by as they trawled, emptied the net, repaired any tears, and set it again.  Gulls and other birds circled overhead, calling for scraps and diving down to make nuisances of themselves.  Toraichi shooed the birds away from the fish, rain-splattered and muscles aching while Captain Iwamura handled the winch and drum from the wheelhouse above.  This kind of back-breaking work made swimming two hundred meters of butterfly seem easy, but the payday in silvery fish piling up in the hold made all the discomfort worth it. 

Tora liked the pace, the feel of the sea beneath his feet, the camaraderie of working with the team.  Everyone had their role, but also pitched in to do whatever needed doing.  None of them could do this alone—it took everyone giving everything, much like the relay races he’d loved so much as a kid.

The activity was so constant that he barely looked up, trusting Natatomi and his Skipper for their expertise and guidance.  The rain was falling in sheets now, driven diagonally by the wind, as the _Oshidori-maru_ rocked back and forth on two-meter rollers.  A particularly good swell, maybe five meters high, had Iwamura pointing them into the wave, the starboard list of the vessel finally breaking Toraichi’s rhythm.  He grabbed the line to steady himself, wiping water from his face and glasses as he looked up to see Natatomi on the radio, in conference with their captain.

The harbor was on their port side—at least it had been, the last time Toraichi had checked.  The heavy rain shrouded them in gray, other than the undulating blue-green sea and the white foam that sprayed in regular intervals across the deck.

“Wonder if they’re thinking to head in.”  Okazaki had to shout for Tora to hear him.

“Is it even noon yet?”

Okazaki laughed.  “You’re a regular glutton for punishment, aren’t you?”

Toraichi shrugged.  After not working most of June due to the weather…  “Guess so.”

Then Natatomi was turning away from the wheelhouse and making the motion to reel in the net.  Toraichi and Okazaki got back to work.

-x-

In the long minutes it took to haul in the net, Tora was soaked to the skin.  It was a wonder the damn PFD didn’t auto-inflate, thinking he was overboard, with how drenched he was and felt.  There was more activity in the wheelhouse again; from the deck Tora could tell their Skipper was standing, the radio held close to his mouth.  A moment later, Natatomi was signaling for them to secure the gear—a sure sign that they were calling it off for the day.  With the four- to five-meter swells nearly a constant now and the deck rolling continuously beneath their feet, it was getting difficult to balance upright, let alone work with any efficiency.  The birds had all but abandoned them, save for one lone seagull perched on top of the winch, and if _that_ wasn’t telling…

Toraichi was calm because everyone else was.  In his five years, he’d seen some rough seas, especially offshore.  But Iwamura and Natatomi each had more than two decades of experience fishing these waters and most of the deckhands had at least ten years (other than him and Okazaki).  So there was no need to panic, even if the waves were a smidge taller than any he’d seen before and he resolutely couldn’t see the shore.

…That was, until the ship’s horn and the flashing of the emergency lights—seven short pulses, followed by a long one—sent Toraichi’s heart into his throat.  It was the general alarm; he quickly finished tying off the line he was working on—ensuring it was made safe—and followed the others inside.

Natatomi gathered them in the crew area, the seven of them huddled around the saloon table in their tiny kitchen area, beside the intercom on the wall while Iwamura spoke from upstairs in the wheelhouse.

 _“We just received a mayday from the_ Aokaze-maru _.  She’s a klick north, northwest of our position.”_

Tora’s blood ran cold.  He, like the rest of them, knew every member of the _Aokaze-maru’s_ four-person crew.  Two of them even had kids in Rin’s and Gou’s classes.

 _“We’re going to help them.”_   Iwamura’s voice was controlled and firm—urgent, yes, but there were no hysterics.  He wasn’t new to this and that helped Tora keep it together.  _“Anyone disagree?”_

Natatomi scanned their faces and answered for them.  “None, Captain.”

_“Alright, emergency procedures.  Prepare for rescue.”_

Toraichi tried to regulate his breathing as Natatomi started issuing orders and the deckhands snapped to comply.  _I’ve trained for this.  I haven’t done it before, but I’ve trained for this—_

“Hamasaki, Matsuoka, prep the skiff.”

He drew a deep breath as the procedures he’d learned formed in his mind.  “Hai,” Tora said, following Hamasaki towards the stairs.

-x-

Iwamura’s full crew was in lifejackets as they pulled alongside the capsized _Aokaze-maru_.  Even with all of the _Oshidori-maru’s_ search lights on full bright, it was difficult to see the ten-meter craft on its side amidst the roiling sea and heavy rain…and even harder to see her crew—tiny specks in the water.

 _“Men overboard—port side!”_   The PA crackled, followed by the three long blasts of the _Oshidori-maru’s_ horn.

“There!”  Natatomi had the handheld light, pointing. 

Toraichi threw the lifebuoy, the orange reflective ring spiraling down to the water’s surface.  Its emergency lights started to flash as soon as it touched down.  He could just make out the first of the _Aokaze-maru’s_ crew, battling to make it to the buoy, hampered by every violent crash of the waves.  The man wasn’t wearing a lifejacket.

Hamasaki and two others launched in the small skiff, navigating the crests and troughs of the waves to the men treading water.  Time for Toraichi was measured in heartbeats, in breaths, as he stood alongside Natatomi, handling a second light, following the men no matter how much the boat rolled and listed beneath him.

There were four men in the water, then three, then two, then only one.  The last man was the farthest out and Tora’s stomach churned like the sea surrounding them as Hamasaki and the others fought against time and water to reach him.  The little skiff was tossed like a toy by the waves; there were several moments where Toraichi stopped breathing, certain it was about to overturn, but the crew kept her upright, riding the swells until the last dark shape was pulled into the tiny craft.

Tora still had lookout duty as the skiff returned to the _Oshidori-maru_.  Nothing was easy about their rendezvous.  Iwamura had to keep them steered into the waves while the rescue boat maneuvered alongside of them.  The swells were higher now, wind adding to the torrential rains.  Salty foam crashed over their heads unceasingly, the ship listing violently to either side, causing anything not tied down to go flying.  More than once, Tora lost his footing, only his grip on the line keeping him in place until the decking righted beneath his feet.

There was the slightest break in the worst of the waves and in those few seconds, Toraichi and Natatomi were able to get ropes down to the skiff, lashing it to the hull and prepping the lines to reel her in.

…That was when a roar like nothing Tora had ever heard before filled his ears, along with the groaning of steel.  The line in his hands went slack, the deck suddenly vertical underneath him, and there was no horizon or sky—only a wall of water standing impossibly tall over his head, rushing up to meet him—

For a split-second, he was weightless, then three things happened in almost the same instant—

Tora smacked into something hard enough that the air left his lungs—

The CO2 cartridge in his PFD discharged—

He lost his glasses—

What little breath Toraichi had, he held—somehow.  Coach’s breath training from a decade ago, maybe?  There was no up, there was no down, there was just water and blurry darkness that made his eyes sting.  His limbs were leaden, encumbered by the gear he wore, but the PFD hugging his torso tugged at him, thrusting him upright into cool air, stirring foam, and mayhem.

Tora choked on a breath that was half-seawater, half-air.  Another wave crashed over him, pushing him under a second time, but the PFD popped him up again a moment later.  Blinking in disbelief, he shoved hair from his face and tried to just concentrate on breathing.  _I’m OK._   He swallowed, tasting seawater.  _I’m OK._

The _Oshidori-maru_ —at least what he could make out of her without his glasses—was not.  The thirty-meter vessel was on her side some distance away, mast and winch dragging through the sea, surrounded by a ring of debris and cargo.  His crew—and the _Aokaze-maru’s_ —were out there somewhere, too.

Another wave smacked him in the face, hard enough to make him dizzy.  Oddly, the water was warmer in the sea than the air and rain had been.  _Oh, it’s July_.  Tora latched onto the thought, almost giddy (manic?).  Tottori’s sea temperatures were a balmy average of 25°C this time of year—like a nice heated pool—rather than what they would’ve been in winter.  Not that exposure wasn’t still a danger, but it was one counted in hours rather than minutes and seconds.

The crush of the waves was carrying him further from the capsized vessel with each whitecap that slammed into him.  That was good and bad—good because debris could be lethal and bad because the emergency beacons were in the _Oshidori-maru’s_ lifeboats.  The farther he got from the beacons, the harder he would be to find, adrift alone, subject to the whims of the waves, without any sense of where he was or where the water was taking him…

Tora closed his eyes, drawing another breath and trying to swallow down the threatening panic.  _I’m alive.  Let’s start there._

“Matsuoka!!”

The voice was Okazaki’s, coming from behind him.

Toraichi kicked himself around, squinting at the blurry figure bobbing amidst the waves.  His teammate wasn’t that far away.  “Okazaki!”  _I can make it_.

Swimming in his gear was more of a workout than any drag suit he’d ever worn for swim practice (except maybe that time the set was dragging Coach across the pool by a band around his waist).  Tora adjusted his stroke—working with the buoyancy of the PFD rather than against it—and slowly cut his way through the water until he was finally grasping Okazaki’s arm.

His friend’s eyes were wide—likely the same expression Tora wore—and for a second they just hugged each other tight with relief (as much as they could in their lifejackets; it was like hugging a marshmallow), as if they’d never let go.

“I’ve never been so fucking happy to be wearing one of these,” Okazaki muttered.

Toraichi laughed, his eyes stinging with saltwater and emotion.  “Same.”

-x-

For a while, the waves got worse rather than better, and it was all they could do to communicate with the rest of the crew via the whistles attached to their lifejackets and try not to get dragged too far away (not that they had much control over the matter) while they waited out the storm.  Tora and Okazaki linked arms at the elbows, huddled together with their knees hugged to their chests to conserve body heat. 

Whether minutes or hours passed, Toraichi had no idea.  But the rain eventually gentled, the wind and swells with it, though nothing subsided entirely.  At least, they’d all been pushed in generally the same direction.

When the sound of a motor whined in the distance, Tora could’ve wept.  “Is that…?”

“Holy shit.”  Okazaki popped his whistle into his mouth, waving his free arm and sounding a three-pulse.

It was Natatomi with one of the _Oshidori-maru_ ’s lifeboats. 

-x-

A lifeboat rated for ten people—in practice—meant ten people getting _really_ cozy and familiar with each other.  Even with half that many, they were all squished and pressed bodily against one another.  _But at least we’re out of the water._   Not everyone had been as fortunate as Tora and Okazaki.  Inouye had a broken arm and Natatomi was doing his best to ensure he didn’t go into shock.  Hamasaki and the other crewmembers in the skiff still had their hands full with the _Aokaze-maru’s_ crew.  They hadn’t yet found Captain Iwamura, who’d been in the wheelhouse when the _Oshidori-maru_ capsized.  As best they could, they circled the wreckage with the lifeboat, but the waves made it too dangerous to get closer.  That, and the ship’s storage holds had spilled their precious payday into the sea.  _Sharks_ …was a thought Tora immediately pushed away and didn’t voice aloud.

Time piled up slowly as they braved the sea in their little lifeboat, taking turns reading from the pocket survival guide that came with the survival kit onboard the craft ( _bear attacks_ , that seemed relevant). 

Tora fingered the wedding ring on the chain around his neck as he waited for the drizzle to end and the storm surge to dissipate.  The hope he felt was as solid as the gold in his hand.  He was going home.  He didn’t know _when_ or _how_ , but this storm _would end_ and he’d see his family again—Miyako, Rin, and Gou.

-x-

Tora didn’t know how long it had been, but he snapped awake to voices and noise and a sea as calm as glass.  There was a ship in front of them—white and blurry and large.  He squinted at the lettering and blue/white slashes on her hull, his eyes immediately filling with tears— _Japan Coast Guard._

There wasn’t a dry eye in the lifeboat as the rescue team brought them aboard—those with the most severe medical needs first—and then the rest.  Tora caught sight of Captain Iwamura, lifted from the _Oshidori-maru_ wreckage on a stretcher with an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth, the translucent plastic misting with slow, gentle breaths—and his heart melted with relief.

Walking was difficult after so many hours cramped up in the tiny boat.  Toraichi sat on the deck of the Coast Guard ship, wrapped in blankets with a cup of hot tea clutched in his hands.  The harbor was a blur of green in the distance under sunset skies streaked amber and scarlet, growing larger and larger as the ship carried him home.

-x-

Ambulances were waiting as they docked; plus it looked like the entire town had come out to meet the ship.  From the whispered murmurs of the Coast Guard crew, Tora gathered that their work tonight was only starting.  The rescue team was still locked in a race against time, spurned onward by the desperate hopes of anxious family members and loved ones crowded on the dock and awaiting news.

But, for tonight at least, Toraichi’s race was over.  Medical personnel escorted him and Okazaki off the Coast Guard ship; they would be taken to the hospital for an evaluation and treatment as needed before they were allowed to go home.

First, though—

“Tora!!”  “Daddy!!”

Tears spilled down Tora’s face as he stepped onto the dock, immediately bowled over by three redheads he loved more than life itself.

They collapsed in a heap on the wooden decking, all of them crying.  Toraichi had a child under each arm, glued to his sides, and Miyako in front of him with her arms wrapped tight around his waist.  He touched each face, memorizing the lines and expressions and eyes all over again, drawing shuddering breaths as his tears continued to fall.  He would cherish every moment— _every moment_ —with his family for the rest of his life. 

Miyako drew back slightly as she touched him, her gaze falling to the bright red PFD—still inflated—beneath her palms.  Her beautiful face crumpled, her sobs coming harder as she buried her face in his chest, her tears soaking into red fabric.

Toraichi finally found his voice.  “ _Tadaima_.”

Her response was hitched and a little broken, whispered into his embrace.  “ _Okaeri_.”

-x-

They piled into a shuttle bus to head to the hospital (and Tora finally took off the PFD).  In the seats across the aisle, Gou had fallen asleep in Miyako’s arms.  Miya’s eyes were closed as she cradled their daughter close, her face drawn with exhaustion and still red from her tears.

Rin was still attached to Toraichi’s side, clutching Tora’s hand in both of his tiny ones like someone was going to have to pry him off when the time came.  Rin hadn’t said a word yet—not even one—and Tora finally reached across with his free hand, fondly stroking soft red hair. 

“Rin?”

The eyes that lifted to his were scarlet and haunted, Rin’s nose raw and reddened.  His voice was barely audible when he spoke, his lower lip trembling from the effort of keeping his emotions at bay.  “They called while Mom and Gou were at Grandma’s.  They said the ship wrecked in the storm.  They said they lost radio contact.  They said _they couldn’t send help_.”

Toraichi’s heart broke as he read it all in his son’s eyes—the hours of terror and grief, the hours of hope lost, the hours _when he had been dead_ , when Rin had nothing else to hold onto.  …And it wasn’t just those hours.  An entire lifetime of dreams and plans—of swimming together, of racing, of hugs and _I love you’s_ , of him being there as Rin grew up, through school graduations and deciding on his future and falling in love and even starting a family of his own…it _all_ died for Rin during those hours.  Now that Rin knew what it felt like, maybe it wasn’t so easy to shake off.

Tora did the only thing he could, wrapping Rin in the tightest of hugs, squeezing his small but fierce son in his arms.  “It’s OK, Rin.  _I’m here_.”

Rin shook in a tearless sob, his hands clutching fistfuls of Toraichi’s shirt.  “ _Dad_ …”

Tora kissed his son’s brow and rested his cheek on top.  “I’m here.”  The second time was for himself, too, for everything _he_ would’ve missed if today had gone differently.  He needed the reassurance just as much.

They stayed like that for a while, the shuttle bus motoring on to the next town as night fell and the first stars came out.  Little by little, Rin’s breathing eased, his fingers relaxing.  Eventually, he was resting against Toraichi’s side, though still hugging and not asleep.

Tora stroked small shoulders, letting out a sigh as he settled against the seat.  “You know you’re gonna have the coolest dad for a while, right?  Since I lost my glasses.”

“Huh?”  Rin looked up at him.  “Why?”

“Because I’ll have to wear my swim goggles everywhere until I get a new pair.”

“Aww, _Dad_.”  Rin scrunched up his face at first, then dissolved into giggles.

Rin’s smile, in that moment, was the most beautiful sight Toraichi had ever seen.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the adage: _Red sky at night, sailors' delight; Red sky at morning, sailors take warning_


End file.
